


Immortal

by leen_go (cagedchaos)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sci-Fi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:32:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagedchaos/pseuds/leen_go
Summary: Lay has died three times, and now he has to deal with some red-eyed weirdo who keeps standing in the corner of his room.





	Immortal

The first time Lay died, he started seeing things that he knew weren’t there, things that disappeared whenever he looked closer. Like that one time when he was eating a rare slice of chocolate cake and it had started to bleed through the table and onto his sterile white pants; when he’d blinked, it was just a regular slice of cake again.

The second time Lay died, he started hearing voices in his head when he came to again. They weren’t the type of voices that wanted to have a conversation with Lay; they were just there, having conversations by themselves in the background as Lay sat alone in his empty room.

And the third time he died, well, that was something completely different.

…

Two years ago, the human race made a major break-through in biotechnology with the first successful human clone, and the team had named him L.A.Y. (L for Lincoln, the last name of the person who’s DNA was used; A for _alpha_ , for first ever successful clone; and Y for the mandatory Y-chromosome in all males). The only problem was, they couldn’t replicate the results, leaving L.A.Y. to be the only evidence they had that their experiment had even worked. Lay had the identical DNA sequences as the chief scientist of the project, and since the scientists had no idea how he actually came to be, Lay underwent tests on a daily basis, with varying electrodes attached to his head, and endless number of needles poking into his skin.

At first, Lay didn’t understand the tests. He had thought that he was sick, and always dutifully reported anything out of the ordinary that occurred, but after a while, he learned that it was a bad idea to tell the doctors things such as the fact that he could see perfectly in the dark as though the lights were on because it would only lead to even more painfully large needles the next day. So he didn’t tell them that he could also see over unreasonably long distances, that he could move objects with his mind or that he could make the scar on his knee from a falling accident heal over in less than five minutes. Instead, he played a helpless child while his doctors played God with his body.

The first time Lay died had been an accident. One of the scientists hadn’t gone over his numbers for a tenth time and Lay’s heart had stopped beating in the middle of a procedure. They shot adrenaline into his heart coupled with an electric shock, and Lay opened his eyes again, much to the doctors’ relief. The scientist responsible for the incident was fired the next day.

The second time Lay died was anything but an accident. One of the scientists was working on a serum that could cure a disease but required that the subject’s heart stop beating. Laws of ethics dictated that it could not be tested on human beings so they used Lay instead. The serum was a failure anyway.

The third time had nothing to do with doctors and nothing to do with their tests. Lay had simply gotten tired of the constant routine of being tested, of the voices in his head, and of the crazy visions that the curiosity of what would happen if he tried to kill himself overcame him. His room was stripped of anything sharp after the incident, and he was put into an induced coma to help minimize the damage on Lay's body.

When Lay woke up again, he was back in his room, his eyes opening to the white ceiling that matched the white walls and the white door. The only way he knew that the lights had been turned off was because everything had a slight warping in shape as though he was looking through glass; the lines that signified the joining of wall to ceiling was a squiggle and the analog clock on the wall was less circular than it was an abstract block. He turned his head slightly to the left to see an intravenous needle hanging off the back of his hand, attached to a saline drip. Rolling his head on his pillow so that he could stare at the blank ceiling again, he let out a long sigh and started to wonder what exactly it would be that he’d have to endure now that he’d died again. It was only then that he realised that the constant chatter in the background was gone.

Lay sat up abruptly, turning the motion sensor lights on in the room with the sudden movement. He brought his free hand to his ear to check again, even though he knew that the voices didn’t come from the outside world. He picked up the book on his bedside table next to the lamp and raised a sceptical eyebrow when it didn’t turn into a vicious monster that wanted to bite his fingers off; he couldn’t be sure that the terrible visions were over because it wasn’t as if they happened on cue.

“You done freaking out yet?” a voice called from the corner of the room.

Lay’s head whipped in the direction and was surprised to find a tall male in all black standing with his arms crossed leaning against the wall. With haired dyed an obnoxious red, Lay was more than sure that this man was not one of the regular visitors to his room. “Who are you?” he asked, not rudely, but not perfectly politely either.

“What, you can’t even guess?”

Lay narrowed his eyes at the unknown man in his room. “What are you talking about?” Even as he asked, Lay’s eyes fell on the pair of fangs peeking out between his lips. His brows furrowed together as he recalled a concept in one of his books: demon.

“Not exactly, but close enough, I guess.”

Lay tilted his head to the side in bewilderment for a moment, _Naw, he can’t read my mind. That’s completely illogical_ , he argued with himself.

“Actually I can, and yes, it is illogical in your human world, but yet here I am, commenting on your conversation with yourself.”

Just as Lay was about to respond, his room door opened to let in an attendant, carrying a tray of steaming food into the room. “How are you feeling today, Lay?”

Lay didn’t answer the question and instead asked, “Excuse me, but what’s this person doing in my room?” He pointed towards the corner where the man stood with an amused look on his face.

“I’m sorry?” The attendant put down the tray on the table and looked towards the direction that Lay was pointing in with a concerned look.

It took a moment for Lay to realise that the attendant couldn’t see the man clothed in black. “Nevermind. Probably just remnants from a dream.” Lay put down his hand and shot an angry look towards the now laughing man in the corner.

The attendant continued to give Lay a confused look, “I’ll talk to the doctor about that.”

Lay fought hard against the groan that was coming up his throat, “No, really, I’m fine,” he insisted, careful not to sound too desperate.

“Still, I think it’s best that a doctor come take a look.”

Lay bit his lip nervously as the attendant pressed a tiny blue button on the wall as he left the room; Lay was not exactly fond of what happened whenever one of the doctors came to “take a look”. Defeated, Lay climbed out of his bed and walked over to the table where his meal sat waiting. He stared at the plastic cutlery in mild amusement.

“Looks like your scientists are taking precautions to make sure they don’t lose their biggest investment again.”

Lay decided to ignore the stranger and sat down in the chair to eat.

“Ignoring me isn’t going to change the fact that I’m still here.”

Lay continued to eat his food in silence.

“Whatever. I’ll just stand in this corner until you stop living in denial.”

…

When Lay returned to his room with his attendant at the end of another day of tests, he was disgruntled to find that the strange man in black was still standing in the very same position from the morning in the room. Lay let out a groan as soon as his escort had left the room.

“You finally going to acknowledge I’m real then?”

Lay scowled as he sat onto the couch that faced the television on the wall. “Deciding that you aren’t going away is not the same as saying that you are real.” Lay had determined that this was the cost for coming back a third time when he should’ve died. Given that the first two times had resulted in an uncomfortable hell, he was pretty sure that the weird red-eyed man in the corner was probably here to the same effect. “So do you have a name or do I have to come up with something creative myself?”

“I go by Kris, and ‘weird red-eyed man’ is not a creative name.”

Lay scowled again, “Okay, you need to stop reading my mind because it’s creeping me out. Or at least stop saying things to remind me that you can read my mind.”

“I will try,” Kris answered simply, though Lay had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t going to be the last time it happened. “And what should I call you?”

“Everyone calls me Lay here,” he answered with a shrug.

Kris laughed, arms still crossed and still leaning into the corner, “That’s a terrible name.”

Lay shot a glare across the room, “Names are hardly by choice, the last time I heard.” He saw something flicker across Kris’ face momentarily but when he looked closer, Kris was still wearing that amused grin.

“Yes, but it’s still a terrible name. We should change it.”

Lay narrowed his eyes at Kris, “I can’t just change my name.”

“I’m not calling you Lay.”

Lay rolled his eyes and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels until a familiar cartoon showed up.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?” Kris asked, suddenly appearing beside Lay on the couch. Lay made a mental note that on top of mind reading, Kris also seemed to be able to move at the speed of light.

Lay shrugged again, attention still on the moving pictures on the flat screen, “You already know what I think of you,” he stated, not really providing an answer to the question.

“Don’t you want to know if you’re right?”

“I’m not like those guys out there; I don’t have an insane compulsive desire to try to understand everything around me.” There was too much that Lay could do that he knew the doctors couldn’t explain with science.

“Haven’t you wondered how you’re still alive after three encounters with death?”

Lay turned to look at Kris and decided that this was the hell he would have to pay: Kris talking forever and Lay being unable to do anything about it. When Kris growled low in his throat at his thoughts, Lay didn’t bother trying to cover up his laugh; he figured Kris would hear him laughing in his head anyway so why bother trying to cover it up?

“How very considerate of you,” Kris grumbled sarcastically as he got up from his seat. _Probably to go stand in his corner again_ , Lay thought, and Kris sat down again with a grimace.

…

For the next week, Lay had to endure Kris’ displeased running commentary of everything. And it wasn’t just in Lay’s room, because Kris followed Lay _everywhere_ , and it drove him insane that he was the only one who could hear Kris’ ramblings even when he was in the lab under bright lights and ten pairs of curious eyes.

“Don’t you ever wonder what it is that they keep shooting you up with?”

“Why don’t they have windows to look outside through? Doesn’t anyone miss the sky in here?”

“Don’t you ever get bored of the food here?”

“Why does everything have to be so _white_? Did no one ever teach these people about colour?”

“What do you think this switch does?”

“I don’t know,” Lay finally answered one morning with annoyance. “And frankly, I don’t care. If you’re so curious, why don’t you go investigate it?” _At least that way, you’ll be far from here so I can hear myself think again._

Kris frowned, “I was only trying to make conversation.”

Lay grumbled as he got out of bed to go brush his teeth. “Well stop trying.”

Kris fell silent, probably for the longest time since he had first shown up in Lay’s room. Lay let out a sigh of relief as he spat out toothpaste and rinsed his mouth with cold water. It was Sunday and like all other Sundays, Lay was allowed to be left alone because the doctors were at home with their families doing whatever it was that families did. Most weeks, Lay spent his days off watching an old movie on his TV, playing video games, or reading a book. Sometimes, he just liked to lie in bed and do nothing, just because he _could_. It was a blissful day of no needles and no questions. The only time he ever had to see anyone else was when his food was delivered to his room.

Today’s breakfast was pancakes topped with fresh fruit and whipped cream. As Lay sat down to dive into his meal, he’d momentarily forgotten he had a permanent guest, given that Kris had been silent ever since Lay told him to stop trying to make conversation. Kris had decided to sulk in his corner all the while shooting eager glances at the owner of the room.

Lay sighed heavily, “They’re called pancakes,” he said, pointing at his plate with his knife (the staff had finally let him use real utensils again).

Kris shot Lay an irritated look, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, as usual, “I _know_ what pancakes are. I’ve been around for way longer than you have.”

Lay rolled his eyes, “Then why are you staring at my breakfast with that look on your face?” Lay was feeling generous, because it was Sunday, and on Sunday, even demons (or whatever Kris was) were allowed some leeway.

Kris’ eyes shifted a moment and he cleared his throat, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Shrugging indifferently, Lay set about eating his breakfast, cutting the circular pan-fried batter in eight identical pieces. It’s when he picked up a blueberry with his fingers that he heard the slight whimper from Kris’ corner. “Do you… want some?”

Kris cleared his throat, “Don’t be stupid. Eating is for humans,” he muttered stubbornly and Lay didn’t bother hiding his smile; Kris would know when he read his mind anyway.

“Fine, then how about just keeping this _human_ company as he eats then?” For someone who had been so adamant about not needing to eat, Kris consumed the blueberries with surprising gusto. “I thought eating was a human thing?” Lay asked, as Kris finished the last blueberry off his plate before Lay had even taken a bite of his pancake.

Kris scowled and was back in his corner in an instant, his arms across his chest again with a scowl on his face, “It is.”

“Right.” Lay finally began enjoying his breakfast, “So if you’re not human, then what are you?”

Kris glared at him through his long fringe, “I thought you didn’t care what or who I was.”

“I didn’t, but it looks like I’m stuck with you for at least a while, so I might as well try to figure out what the hell you’re doing here.”

Kris sighed, “Or, you’re just bored.”

Lay chuckled, “Yes, that too.” He finished his meal and got up from his chair, relocating to the couch where it was more comfortable. “You going to talk, or should I just continue to ignore your existence again?”

“Fine,” Kris said, and Lay could almost imagine the scowl on his face without having to see his face. “Your estimate that I’m a demon isn’t exactly correct. I’m a reaper.” Kris had wandered in front of the television to face Lay as he spoke.

Lay raised an eyebrow, “As in, you’re here to gather my soul? Shouldn’t you have done that the last three times I died?” he asked, a little bitterly.

Kris shrugged, “Your number isn’t up. I’m supposed to make sure you don’t go dying on us again because you’re not finished here yet.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just following orders.”

“And what, your orders are to annoy me to death?” Lay asked and Kris didn’t respond, returning to stand in his corner again. “Don’t you ever get tired to standing all the time?”

“I don’t get tired. I don’t have to sit down and I don’t have to sleep.”

Lay recognized the end of a conversation when he saw one, so he flipped on the television and picked up one of the game controllers.

…

The next week, Kris was a lot quieter, only following Lay around the facility without offering comment. Occasionally, Kris would look up towards the ceiling with a longing look and a heavy sigh.

“What’s that for?” Lay finally asked one afternoon in between treatments.

“What’s what for?”

“That sigh. You always look up at the ceiling and then sigh like it’s the most painful thing to do.”

“It’s nothing.”

Lay scoffed, “And I’m king of the world.”

Kris glared at Lay for the sarcastic comment before looking away, “There’s no sky here.”

“Sky?” Lay asked, confused. “Of course there’s no sky here, we’re in an underground research lab.”

“Exactly. It’s suffocating here,” Kris paused and Lay didn’t interrupt. “I miss flying up there,” he said simply, still not looking at Lay.

…

It was almost a month since being able to see Kris that Lay returned from one of his tests in agony. The doctors had already given him medications, but they weren’t working.

“Kris?” he asked into the empty room in a pained voice through his clenched jaw, his eyes squeezed firmly shut. A hum from the general direction of Kris’ corner let him know that Kris was paying attention. “Can you tell me about your sky?” he asked in a muffled voice.

A moment of silence passed before Kris answered, “What?”

A groan slipped past Lay’s lips, “I need a distraction.”

“Uhm. It’s blue,” Kris explained, unhelpfully.

“Thanks, Kris. That’s informative, exactly what I was looking for,” Lay said sarcastically through a cringe. “Tell me about flying.”

“Oh,” Kris seemed taken aback by the sudden request. “Well, it’s the greatest feeling. Like I’m unstoppable. It’s exhilarating and though it makes you feel small against the world below, you feel big because you get to look down at it all.”

“You hate that you’re stuck down here with me, don’t you?” Lay asked, swallowing hard against the hard throbbing in his lower back.

Kris shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Don’t lie,” The corners of Lay’s mouth twisted upwards awkwardly as though to form a smile, “I’m sorry, Kris.”

…

It wasn’t the only time Lay returned to his room doubled over. The current tests he was undergoing left him out of breath and biting his lip until it bled on a daily basis. Each time this happened, Lay asked Kris to describe something else from the outside world that Kris had experienced prior to becoming a permanent fixture in the corner of Lay’s room.

“I thought you could heal yourself,” Kris asked on day after explaining the Great Wall of China.

“I can only fix things if I know their cause. I have no idea what these tests are that they’re running,” Lay limped over to his bed and climbed on with difficulty. He noted that Kris had momentarily left his corner to make sure Lay didn’t fall off onto the ground.

“Why do you stay here?” Kris asked when Lay was pulling the covers to his chin. “Why do you let them do this to you?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

…

“I thought of what to call you,” Kris said one day. He’d started making a habit of lying in Lay’s couch, with ankles crossed over the arm. Lay guessed he was finally bored of standing in his corner all the time.

“My name is Lay.”

“Yeah, but I already said I’m not going to use that stupid name.”

Lay smirked, “And what, pray tell, is this great name you’ve decided to call me?” Lay was having a good day; his scientists had finished with the painful needles to his back and he’d been given a few extra days to rest before they resumed with some other god awful testing.

“I think I’m going to call you Zhang Yixing. Maybe just Yixing.”

Lay snorted, “How’s that better than Lay?”

“At least it’s a real person’s name. Aren’t you a real person?”

Lay swallowed at the comment. To be honest, no, he never thought himself a ‘real person’. He was a science experiment gone right, or wrong, depending on whose perspective you were looking from. He was a research tool, and he was a source for scientific puzzlement, but never once had he thought he was a person. At least not until Kris had offered to give him a real name.

“What are you thinking?” Kris asked from the couch.

“You already know,” Lay answered from the bed, turning his attention back to the sketchbook in his hand.

“Yeah, but I’d like to hear you say it yourself, _Zhang Yixing_.”

Lay swallowed, “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

_Because saying it out loud wouldn’t change anything._

…

“What’s it like being immortal?”

Kris looked up from rummaging through Lay’s old books, “What do you mean?”

“How is it different from being human?” Lay asked, picking out the blueberries from his dessert and putting them in a small bowl to slide across the table to Kris.

Kris shrugged as he picked up a berry, “I get to live forever, obviously. And I don’t have to eat, or sleep and I get to fly, which you already know. But it also means I can’t feel things as intensely as humans do. Like love. That is a strictly mortal emotion.”

“Do you ever wish you were human? So maybe you could experience all that?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

…

“Tell me about flying again,” Lay said between bites of pasta on Wednesday.

“What? Why?”

“Because you seem happiest when you talk about being in the sky,” Lay answered simply. Kris didn’t answer. “Do you think maybe you could take me once? If I can get out of here?”

“I thought you didn’t want to leave here.”

Lay shrugged, “Maybe flying would be worth the trouble.”

“What makes you think that?”

Lay shrugged and stabbed at a piece of sliced chicken in his plate, “Like I said, you seem happiest when you talk about being in the sky.”

…

Lay woke up early one day and found that he was alone in his room for the first time in over two months. “Kris?” he called with no response.

Lay had thought that with Kris gone, he could have some peace and quiet, but instead, he found himself missing Kris’ snide comments. He headed to the bathroom and wondered for the first time if Kris always disappeared at night when Lay went to sleep, and if he did, where did he go? If he didn’t, what did he do at night?

As he stared into his reflection, an uncomfortable feeling started to form in the pit of his stomach and he had to spit out his toothpaste before he gagged on it. He could hear hushed voices speaking urgently outside on the other side of the door and Lay imagined it couldn’t be good news. He rinsed his mouth and wiped his mouth, peaking out the bathroom slowly, as if expecting someone to be standing in his room.

“Kris?” He asked the empty room nervously again.

The door to his room slid open to reveal one of his nurses with a grim expression on her face. The uncomfortable feeling in Lay’s stomach came back when she didn’t say anything. “What is it?” He asked uneasily.

“Come with me, please.”

Lay tilted his head slightly as he followed the nurse out the room, “Where are we going?”

“Dr. Lincoln is in the hospital suffering from a collapsed lung.”

It took a moment for Lay to understand the underlying tone that the nurse was using. “Oh,” he said simply, letting himself be led away. This was probably why Kris had been sent to make sure he didn’t go dying on them again, because they needed his tissue fresh if they hoped to help Dr. Lincoln. Because no matter how impressive a science experiment Lay had been, he was exactly that, a science experiment and not a person. But Dr. Lincoln was a person, a very important person who could continue to contribute to the science community only if he was still alive. And Lay was the key to that.

Lay swallowed and looked upwards as he walked so that the threatening tears didn’t fall. This was his purpose after all. He suddenly wanted badly for Kris’ name for him to be real; he wanted to be Zhang Yixing, and not just Lay.

“You’re just going to go with them?” Kris had finally shown up, striding in step next to Lay.

 _What am I supposed to do? Dr. Lincoln is dying._ Lay thought in his head, so he wouldn’t alarm the nurse by seemingly talking to himself.

“So? If you go with her, then _you’ll_ die.”

_I was an accident anyway, and obviously, the winds of fate favour my death over my life._

“The winds of fate? Please, fate is not the one making you walk towards your own death. You’re doing it yourself.”

_You knew about this all along, didn’t you?_

“Yes. I also know the shortest way out of here.”

_Shouldn’t you just be standing by to take me away when I die, officially this time?_

“I don’t want to.”

Lay didn’t have time to register his surprise when a blast from ahead threw him backwards.

“Get up, Yixing,” Kris said without hesitation, still on his feet and extending a hand towards Lay.

“Did you do that?” Lay asked blankly as he stared at the plume of smoke and dust in front of him.

Kris ignored the question and grabbed Lay by the wrist pulled him to his feet, “Just move it, will you?”

Even as Kris was dragging him along the hallway, all Lay could think about was how this was the first time Kris had touched him, how surprisingly human and actually solid Kris’ hand felt around his wrist, and how he never wanted Kris to let go.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking right now? How about concentrating on not tripping over your own feet so my efforts in trying to get you out of this damn hell-hole won’t go to waste?”

“Why are you doing this?” Lay asked as he stepped around a pile of debris carefully.

“I don’t know.”

After following Kris’ through a labyrinth of hallways and stairwells, Lay finally pushed open a door that led outside, ears ringing from the mess of alarms that the couple had just left behind. Lay had expected the colour that Kris had described the world to be made of when he told stories, but all he saw were wired fences, the grey building they’d just left, and a desert that stretched on as far as he could see. The air was dry and Lay was having a difficult adjusting from the perfect ambient conditions he’d lived in his entire life. _What am I doing?_

Lay was too busy having second thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that Kris had let go of his wrist until Kris slapped him lightly in the shoulder to get his attention. “Hold on tight.”

“What?”

Kris rolled his eyes with a sigh and pulled Lay towards him and Lay instinctively wrapped his arms around Kris’ solid torso. Lay barely had time to register the yelling from the security guards before his feet were off the ground.

_So this is what Kris meant by flying._

When Lay finally dared to open his eyes again, he was floating in the air, arms still wrapped tightly around Kris for dear life. He opened his mouth to scream but the wind took away his voice. When he looked down, he watched as the grey facility below them shrink smaller and smaller and he couldn’t help but grin at what the people below had just seen him do, given that none of them could see Kris. He felt Kris’ chest vibrate and when he looked up, Kris was smiling from his muted laugh.

After what felt like hours, Kris finally decided to let them down on a sturdy tree branch. The first thing Lay did was let go of Kris and kiss the tree trunk, exclaiming, “It’s solid! _Solid_!”

Lay felt the branch twitch in the slightest as Kris sat down and he joined him, careful not to swing his legs too hard for fear of falling off. “Your doctor just died,” Kris stated flatly.

“Oh…” He wasn’t sure how to feel though guilty seemed like an appropriate sentiment given that his escape had cost the life of one of the people he’d known his entire life. “How do you know?” Kris gave him a look, and Lay was quick to correct himself. “Right, you’re a reaper. Of course you know.”

Lay stared through the foliage at the sky, only just enjoying its presence now that he wasn’t in danger of falling to his death, “Well, what now?”

Kris pointed towards his right, “There’s a city, not far from here. You’d be able to start a normal life there.”

“I mean what about you? Now that you’re no longer stuck babysitting me, where are you off to?”

“I…” Kris paused, “I have to report in to my superiors. They’re going to want to know what happened today.”

Lay’s heart sunk when he finally realised what saving him might mean for Kris. He’d never thought too hard about Kris’ complicated world, but Lay was sure that something like messing with life and death of humans was bound to get Kris in trouble. “Will I ever see you again?”

When Kris didn’t answer, Lay suddenly felt it hard to breathe again. He’d gotten so used to having Kris around wherever he turned that he’d never thought of the possibility he’d be on his own again. He watched as Kris stared at a nearby leaf, falling from a branch and suddenly leaned over to kiss the immortal on the cheek. He pulled back to himself almost immediately, “Uhm, sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”       

Kris was wearing a look of shock on his face that slowly softened as he leaned in to kiss Lay on the lips.

Lay had only ever read books with kisses and never thought he’d live to experience it himself. He’d thought it was just fancy writing when the author said the world fell away, but as he parted his lips to welcome Kris’ tongue he finally understood it all. Lay never expected that a kiss could feel magical.

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” Kris said when he pulled away from Lay, two fingers touching his slightly swollen lips. Lay saw his jaw clench when Kris turned away and stood up on the branch. “Stay safe and try not to die again, Zhang Yixing.”

And then Kris was gone.

Lay continued sitting on the branch for a while, staring at the space Kris had occupied before he’d disappeared. He wondered how much trouble Kris was actually in and hoped that it didn’t mean the end of Kris. He climbed down the tree carefully until his feet hit the soft dirt. Taking a deep breath, Lay started walking in the direction that Kris had pointed in and got ready to start a new life, as Zhang Yixing.

…

Years later, Yixing was standing in his new house, moving around his abstract paintings with his mind to find the best overall effect in the room. He worked at a hospital after having discovered that his healing powers also worked on people other than himself, though he was careful not to be discovered.

When Yixing finally made a decision about the placement of the canvases the doorbell rang. Hollering across the house towards the front door to tell his guest that he was coming, he picked up his phone to snap a picture of the orientations before he lowered the paintings to lean against the wall on the ground next to his couch.

Yixing’d assumed that it was another random person trying to sell him services that he didn’t need so he was surprised when he opened the door to a familiar face, except there were no fangs and the red eyes were now a deep brown.

“Do you remember when you asked me if I ever wished I was human? Just to experience things like love?”

Of course he remembered. He remembered everything about Kris. He even had a box of blueberries in his fridge at all times, just in case. Yixing didn’t have time to respond before Kris stepped forward and placed his lips on top of Yixing’s.

“My answer was no. Not until I met you.”


End file.
